Friday, May 21, 2010

Unmai sonnaal nessipaya?

CHAPTER I

“What do you like to have Krithika?” I queried adjusting my throat. I shouldn’t have had that ice cream at mid night when I need to speak a lot today. Ravi if today isn’t anywhere near great, I will kill you.

“Anything you like. After all it’s your birthday.”

“Hey come on. No formalities” I tried being the good host.

“No. I mean it. I want to have what you like in this menu. We will have what you love. The least I can do for this person sitting before me is to experience his taste.” Krithika declared.

“They serve chicken here” I said with a mischievous smile looking at her. I noticed the dimple slowly disappearing as her face changed. She reached for the fork and forcing the dimple to reappear again said “yah sure.” I wanted to blurt those words then, but I didn’t want to change the plan. This should be special. Slowly smiled at her and said I was only joking and went about the menu thinking what SHE would like. Making my decision I started to recite my decision only to see her fixed over something. The reason was someone she knew crossed by the table. As she pointed out that guy to me, by some intuition he turned and saw us; saw her pointing at him. Recognizing her he came towards us and before he could give any remark Krithika took the lead.

While I was contemplating whether to help him out or not, Krithika entered the hall. When she saw Abhay still sitting here she took a pause but when she saw me smiling at her she returned the gesture. She walked towards me with the air of confidence. I kept starring at her. Noticing the strange sight she gave a puzzled look with a tint of unsurity which was enticing me. It jolted my backbone and when she broke into a blushing smile only for a moment it was killing me for eternity. I just wanted to kiss her right there right then. And I knew what she will tell if I get any closer to her in public: “hey loose maikan, don’t be desperate” tapping my hormonal surge. For which I would reply: “Okay Kula Katrika” and we would trod off to our irreverent attack on each other.

”Sirf ek ya doh shabd, with which I can come out of the language trap?” Abhay barged in, in pleading mode.

“Don’t you dare support him. The only work he does in office is to make my life miserable. Just hate him to the core!” Taking a pause she took in a large sip of water which I believe was to cool down. After taking a huge breath she said “Anyway let’s not ruin our day. The food smells great why don’t we attack it?”

“Yah sure” I said with a mechanical smile. While drawing the panner chawal with fork, I was wishing for some brilliant idea cut through my head to butter her. What if I make the move I had planned earlier? But wait: I can see the future now itself.Tomorrow when she goes to office she will have a royal reception thanks to my snippety-snappetty words.

“Is there anything wrong?” a voice breaking the mind block enquired.

“Nothing Krithika. Hope you like the food?”

“Yah good. The ambience is perfect. We should visit here often.”

“Yes. Why not?” I said swallowing the words -Only if we have a next meeting.

When I was contemplating how to break the ice, ice cream came. Looking at her happily wading the cup I decided to prolong the smile.

CHAPTER II

The last time I remember starring at the big screen without registering anything was way back when I was expecting my state board results while in a theatre. The actor today too fought and fought, rose from the ashes and again fought and finally brought the wrong doers to justice while I was awaiting my judgment. Finally it came:

“Mr. Ramesh you are dead!”

“Am sorry Krithika”

“You are so dead. You traitor!”

“But it wasn’t intentional!”

“You were supposed to be on my side!!”

“But I didn’t know! Am sorry”

“Go tell your sorry to yourself! Get lost”

“But …”

“”

“but …”

“”

“Oh fine … yah I deserve it!”

“Guess I made a big fool out of myself.”

“Congrats”

CHAPTER III

Thoughts shimmers, mind trembles, hands shivers but I don’t think I have fever. I took my pen to sign those pending finance reports. But I couldn’t sign. It was her gift. She said, “I dono how long I can be your inspiration but at least let me be a cause for your writing”. I forced myself to think this as a test of perseverance. I paced to & fro between the two ends of my 6*4 feet cubicle. There were the articles I need to approve off for publishing. I need to interview few people this eve and more importantly I need to have lunch. That’s right I can eat and digest the sorrow. But the same thought brought back memories of her. It was her habit to brunch when dejected. It’s been two weeks since the incident! I should have shaken off the trauma by now. Deciding its better to be amidst people I started for to see what my crew members were doing. As I came out of my self obsession and entered their world, I could hear bustling sounds of energetic writers brainstorming at one end while the rest were busy slashing their keyboards meeting deadlines. I chose to avoid the intellectuals and strode towards the regular content providers. I was so wrong in my decision – again. That obnoxious sound, that tapping sound, it was tormenting me. With each tap of theirs, I felt like letters, syllabi, words were tapping into my head, typing the conversation and the implications. It was typing inside me, those letters, those text messages I typed to her. I was basking for a pause, but I forgot that also had to be tapped in a keyboard. I collected myself and went straight back to my cubicle wanting to type the letter. I tried and tried but my waging war was up against my inner self. Words failed to be transferred and I was losing the battle. The lotus girl was clouding my thoughts. As I declared that allegory to myself, thoughts transcended and I wrote:

She looked at the person who owned the voice, the voice she loved; the voice she loves; the guy she loves. Words didn’t matter to her. The poetry didn’t affect her. The teary eyes of the person, standing in front of her was tearing her apart. She couldn’t take it any longer. He raised his head to see through those watery eyes. He looked at the rose that was tightly clasped secure in her left hand. Scared, he tried to recollect if he had removed the thorn. Yes he did. The hands suddenly released the rose only to land on the bed and before he could comprehend the reason she flung her hands around him kissing him whilst her friends cheered her.

“Sir … Sir?” I heard clapping sound. Realizing the dire situation I sprung like a nimble.

“Yah sorry … head ache. What is the time?”

“It’s 4:30pm.”

“Can you do me a favour? Please book the next flight to Delhi for me. I think I will reach there by 5:30 if I hurry. Book the flight that leaves after that and message me the details.”

Saving the poem I typed, I went to find out the climax for the story that I should write.

CHAPTER IV

She turned the corner and disappeared from my view into her street. Not wanting to lose her literally, I ran. The heart pace weakened as I caught her within my eyesight only to shoot up as I neared her. Reaching her I started walking to her pace. Noticing the pair of shoes that she had bought for someone she knew, her feet slowed down and our eyes met. I thought she would be surprised, if at all she was she didn’t show it.

“Can we speak or shall I turn back and go?”

“Hey hi. No tell” and she started moving slowly towards her place.

“So how are you?”

“Yah fine. I was just thinking about you.”

“hmmm … thoughts .. Hope I didn’t trouble you at least there.”

“No …”

Seeing my urging look she continued, “it … was a nice memory”

“Oh .. good to hear”

“Hey, I need to go. Sorry can’t ask you to come in. If you stay here till tomorrow will meet you.”

“Krithika?”

“Yah?” she said stopping.

“Hope you forgive me.”

“Well my heart is big.” She replied with a smile. Oh the smile. In moonlight it was a picturesque scene. I thought it should be told in the most romantic way possible. The perfect ambience, the perfect dress, the choicest food, relaxed mind. But seeing her I realized the scene is not in the land to make it romantic, the scene is in the ambience of the mind; the power which created those painting of locations for those ideal proposals.

“Can I tell you a truth?”

“Go on?”

“I love you”

She paused and in that shock my life passed for a moment. But she started to bring back those hidden dimples. As she skewed her head to project as if she was thinking she replied breaking to a smile, “I will think about it and tell you.”

-X-

Useless fact:

This story is based on one of my favourite songs from Aayutha Ezhuthu "Nenjam ellam" by A.R.Rahman & Mani Rathnam. Lyrics by Vairamuthu.

This story travels backwards in content of this song and ends in a proposal, where this song actually starts in the movie.

unmai sonnaal naesippaaya (if i tell you the truth, will you love me?)manjathin mael mannippaaya (in bed will you forgive me?)